He walked slowly down the main corridor, lined with portraits of their entire dynasty. Once, their Sparks had astonished and inspired awe. Aion’s great-great-great-grandfather breathed fire like the extinct dragons—hence his name, the World-Burner. His great-grandmother could cure any ailment; her Spark was said to rival that of the ancient ones. Even Aion’s mother had an unusual gift: when she turned four moons old, her hair became as strong as steel—and no one could ever cut it. In Aion’s generation, there were still examples of enviable Sparks—like his sister. But Aion? He’d inherited the hated nickname: the Dead One. It unnerved the courtiers and kept them at arm’s length. Maybe that’s why his father always sent him far from the royal court.

His relationship with his father was far from smooth. Without his mother’s support, he might have ended up on the fringes of the realm, herding livestock. After all, a Death-related Spark was a black mark on the impeccable royal lineage. Aion wouldn’t be surprised if his next expedition was so remote that he’d never return. For now, his father promised him leadership of the trading fleet. Did his sister know about his dreadful relationship with their father? Or did her Spark shield her even from those truths?

Lost in such thoughts, he reached the gate of the castle. The servants were watching him with an extra warmth that made his heart flutter.

“Oh my goodness! This is the boy I’ve been chasing around the house with a bowl of porridge! Look at him—so dressed up, wearing that wide-brimmed hat, even a sword! My dear, I’ll miss you. Please, take care of yourself.” The nanny—a dark-skinned woman in her middle moons—embraced him without shame.

“Everything will be fine. You’ve got five ships escorting you, and it's just to the neighboring continent, to the king’s brother. What could happen? Unless mermaids charm you away.” A servant raised his eyebrows and smiled. The nanny light-heartedly bonked him on the head. “Hey! Why was that?”

“For meddling with those slippery fish-people! What kind of offspring would come from that? Don’t listen to the old fool.”

“I’m only forty.”

“Don’t listen to a very old fool. And anyway...”

“Let’s try not to fight on the first day of the campaign. Mel’s right, you’re traveling with five ships and a whole bunch of sailors. In the old days, that’d be an entire army. Calm down. I’ll be back soon—I promise.” Aion hugged each of them. “Ugh, I’m really not a fan of these adventures. But as you know, I didn’t get much choice.”

“Aion.” That voice—he’d recognize it anywhere. He turned sharply. His mother stood by the heavy doors. She always seemed overly stern in her long black lace dress, her makeup accentuating her pale complexion. Her blue eyes, like morning sky, commanded respect and fear.

Aion could say he loved his mother—loved and feared her more than anyone. She never wore hats. Ever. Otherwise, she might have been called a dark sorceress by now—but her long, thick braid of pale hair saved her from that fate. Two strands gleamed steel-gray, and Aion knew exactly why. The queen was truly beautiful.

The prince nodded to the servants and approached her.

“You always manage to make me a little worried,” his mother said, taking his arm and leading him toward their carriage.

They didn’t need much time to reach the pier, but she always used transport—her hair, besides being steel-strong, was also incredibly heavy. Not everyone could carry it. Aion knew that firsthand.

“I was just late saying goodbye to Brina and the servants, that’s all. She wouldn’t let me go for a full twenty minutes,” he confessed. He knew lying to his mother was pointless, but sometimes he wouldn’t help himself.

“I know you don’t want to go, Aion. But everyone has a destiny, and we must try to understand ours. If something feels strange at first, you must be patient. You’ll never know until you try.”

The carriage rolled along, and Aion instinctively watched each house pass by. He was due back soon, but he found himself bidding farewell to every shop sign. Their city—the capital of the First Continent, Aden-Nirán—was one of the oldest. Long ago, this settlement and one village began human life near the ocean and a river. After thousands of moon cycles, Aden-Nirán had grown vast. The royal castle sat exactly where the first huts were built, when people finally stopped wandering. Now, each multicolored building competed to outshine the next, especially near the port—no giant castle was enough. Aion, who’d been sheltered for so long, took note of every change. He owed it all to Brina and her strange mood.

“So if I don’t like this ‘destiny,’ can I come back and do something else?”

“No traveler has ever traded the ocean for a life locked inside the castle.”

Aion understood why his mother wouldn’t give the answer he wanted. No matter how much she loved him, some things were beyond her power. The only thing he could do was not force her to relive her helplessness over and over. So he stayed quiet and stared ahead.

After a few minutes, he noticed the sailors. One caught his eye—covered head to toe in strange-patterned tattoos, his light hair reflecting dozens of colors in the sun. Aion couldn’t look away. He carried a heavy-looking crate, and beside him bustled a companion in finer attire—likely a clerk to record the voyage, if he remembered uniform color codes correctly. Aion couldn’t quite hear them before his attention shifted: there lay the ship, Golden Dragon.

He leapt out of the carriage and helped his mother down, trying to appear unaffected by the massive vessel. Its gilded dragon figurehead lived up to its name—the symbol of power and wealth. But it also looked like a giant target for pirates. Beautiful, yes—but dangerous too.

They had about fifteen minutes until departure. Perhaps Aion did arrive fashionably late; he was meant to board half an hour ago, thank the gods he didn’t have to haul his trunks himself.

“Captain Walder,” Aion offered, “I apologize for my tardiness. Royal affairs always take longer, no matter how many servants a castle has.”

The captain, no older than forty moons with light eyes and a charming smile, bowed to the queen and kissed her hand.

“And let it be known, Princess—I mean, Your Majesty—that my son is slower than a ship in calm seas.”

“No worries, Your Majesty. All the cargo is already aboard, and once the porters bring in the prince’s belongings, we’ll depart on time.” He gestured at the ship, where most of Aion’s trunks were already loaded. “We wouldn’t wish to anger the royal family. Please, Prince. We’re about to weigh anchor. Say your farewells.”

“My dear,” the queen said, “be careful. Remember, nothing is more precious than life—and try not to fall in love with some monster. I accept your choices, but no unnecessary complications.” She retrieved a star-shaped pendant encrusted with a unicorn tear. “Brina asked me to give you this. It’ll bring you luck.”

“Unicorns are extinct, Mother.” He hugged her tightly.

“Which makes this even more precious. And we don’t really know for certain,” she said, wiping away a tear. “I hope you don’t give me more gray hairs. I don’t want to have to look for you at the bottom of the ocean.”

“I’m not too keen on lying at the bottom of the ocean myself, you know.” Aion clasped the pendant. “I love you, and I must go now.”

“We’ll see each other soon!”

“Of course.”